


Sun/Sand/Sea (In Various Pairings)

by Euphoric_Mandelbulb



Category: Being Human (UK), Doctor Who (2005), Jonathan Coulton Songs, Their Majesties' Bucketeers - L. Neil Smith
Genre: Alien Culture, Angst, Barry Island, Beach In Autumn, Being Human UK - Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dalek Pants, Dalek Trousers, Donuts, Drunkenness, F/M, Gen, Hangover, Huge Greasy Breakfast, Humor, Humour, Implied/Referenced Character Death, JoCo Cruise Crazy, Jonathan Coulton - Freeform, Other, Their Majesties' Bucketeers - Fusion, doughnuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphoric_Mandelbulb/pseuds/Euphoric_Mandelbulb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ponds have demanded a day of sun, sand and sea; the TARDIS seems determined to provide only two out of three at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sun/Sea (The Freedom Of The Seas, Eastern Caribbean, Earth, 2013)

**Author's Note:**

> Settings: third JoCo Cruise Crazy, several centuries post-novel for “Their Majesties' Bucketeers”, early Series 5 for “Being Human”.
> 
> Spoilers for: the JoCo Cruise Crazy 3 Fancy Pants Parade, and the first four series of “Being Human”.
> 
> It took me three attempts to produce this, and I still don't like it. It is my Kuala Lumpur.
> 
> Not beta'd, because I have no beta :-( Did not need Britpicking, because I *am* British :-)

Apparently, trousers made by the TARDIS from bits of old Dalek left lying around after a skirmish in the year 200100 are _really_ cool in the minds of Internet music stars of 2013.  
  
Rory stumbles onto the stage, looking rather dazed, and has to be prompted to “hold the trophy high” as described in the lyrics. (Fortunately, nobody seems to realise how dead a giveaway this is that he'd never even _heard_ of Jonathan Coulton before tonight.)  
  
Amy clambers up, still in her sparkling harem-pants – Rory stops the bouncers from kicking her off, reassuring them that she actually _is_ his wife – and kisses him in front of the crowd, who go wild.  
  
The Doctor (who has added a holographic swirling multicoloured pattern of some sort to his trousers _and_ braces) scrambles up after her before anyone notices, kisses Rory (the crowd go even more wild, and several people faint with joy), then grabs the trophy and peers at it from all angles before taste-testing it.  
  
Rory eases the trophy away from the Doctor, promising that he can play with it later; the Doctor gets bored with sulking after three seconds, and decides to throw his arms round both Ponds and jump up and down in excitement instead.  
  
The after-concert party goes on until the early hours, and it's just as well that the Doctor metabolises alcohol rapidly because the Ponds are far too drunk by the end of it to come up with an excuse for why they don't have a cabin on this ship.  
  
They sneak off to the TARDIS as subtly as is possible when two of you are starting to transition from “very drunk” to “horribly hungover” while the third is twice as hyperactive as normal due to over-excitement.  
  
As the humans begin to groan at the take-off noise, the Doctor proudly announces that he knows where and when they can get _the_ best hangover cure in all time and space.  
  
This statement is not greeted with the declarations of eternal loyalty he'd expected. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
  
In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have shouted it.


	2. Sun/Sand (Mathas, Sodde Lydfe, 2387)

The humans protest loudly and piteously about every aspect of the landing. The Doctor wonders whether to take pity on them and apply the Blue Boring-ers, but can't quite bring himself to do it (he's _sure_ that Sexy loves the landing noise just as much as he does).  
  
“Right! Before we -”  
  
“ _Keep it down!_ ” wails Amy.  
  
“Sorry!” he whispers. “Before we go out there, you'll need to wear these. They're atmosphere converters – they break down the molecules of the local atmosphere into subatomic particles and reconfigure them into the air you're used to. Originally invented for dealing with smog, actually, but later enabled the colonisation of gas giants!” He hands over devices which look like aeroplane oxygen masks (but with a black disc instead of the weird bag thing on the end).   
“Oh, and don't be sick in them or they won't work,” he warns, noticing Rory's increasingly grey face. Rory moans in despair.  
  
Somehow, the Doctor has managed to land them in the early dawn, when the air is about as cool as it ever gets on this baking world. (Or, more likely, the TARDIS is feeling sympathetic and it was nothing to do with the Doctor, no matter what he says.)   
They stagger through the sand, the Doctor holding the humans up by the elbows, until they reach what is apparently a hotel specifically for off-worlder tourists.  
  
The Doctor spends quite some time in furtive discussion with the hotel owner, who is four feet tall, three-sided, and has nine limbs. The murmuring sound is surprisingly soothing, and the humans doze off briefly.  
  
Eventually, the Doctor shakes them awake and informs them that he's managed to organise a trade for the hangover cure. They worry about what their side of the deal might be, but cannot articulate their concerns coherently.  
  
He drags them through the airlock into the oxygen-breathers' dining room, where the “cure” turns out to be a huge greasy breakfast. To human eyes, it appears to consist of imam bayildi, crisps and prawn crackers. The Doctor assures them that “this is the best hangover cure _anywhere_ and _anywhen_ – I'm _fairly_ certain that finding a lamviin café was the only thing that saved me from regenerating after nights out drinking with the Corsair. It's lucky they don't recognise me as one of the people they banned from this planet after Jack kept propositioning locals for twosomes. And foursomes. Remind me to _never_ introduce you to Jack Harkness.”  
  
The “imam bayildi” has odd hints of dragonfruit, the “crackers” turn out to be dried sandshrimp with the shells still on, and the “crisps” taste of parsnip, but the meal _is_ effective after a while (though they only discover this because the Doctor is practically forcing it down their throats). Finally, Rory is able to ask about their end of the bargain.  
  
It turns out that the Doctor has agreed for the three of them to swim in the river behind the hotel (“it's a tributary reserved especially for tourists to swim in – perfectly clean water, no boats!”) in full view of a paying audience. Apparently the locals, having evolved in the planet's deserts, don't make a habit of swimming hence are rather fascinated by the sight of more amphibiously-inclined species.  
  
The Doctor has brought their swimming costumes (well, _some_ swimming costumes in their sizes – Rory's sure that his own swimming trunks don't have a large carrot pictured on the front), and they are each directed to a different toilet (or rather, “sand-closet”) to change. To Amy and Rory's amusement, the Doctor is the one sent to the Lurries' (surmale) sand-closet.  
  
The Doctor ties their clothes up with something resembling a robotic snake, which he assures them will defend their possessions to the bitter end (it gives a disturbing hiss at this moment), and they spend the next hour awkwardly splashing around in front of about a thousand very alien beings, many of whom are trying to stand on top of one another for a better view.   
The Doctor is totally relaxed – apparently he's made similar deals with local hotel owners several times before – and eventually persuades Amy to help him pull Rory's legs out from under him (the atmosphere converters also convert liquids to breathable gas, as it turns out – the Doctor did not know this before now, and spends the next fifteen minutes testing out this feature before spotting a dead sandshrimp leaking its innards into the water, which makes him shoot up to the surface like a startled dolphin).  
  
By the time they leave the water, the air temperature has risen to nearly 40°C, and Rory eventually gives in and takes his shirt off again.  
  
“Did you _make_ the weather this hot somehow, just so I'd take my shirt back off? Amy, did you put him up to this?”  
  
“I can't manipulate local temperature, only precipitation,” the Doctor replies, and begins to tell them about a time when he made it snow in London on Christmas Day.  
Rory was only joking, and is now quite alarmed.  
  
The Doctor tries to drag them round the statues in the city centre, but when they start to feel dizzy he gives up and hauls them back to the TARDIS.  
  
“Sun and sand is nice, but can we _please_ go somewhere less _boiling_? Maybe with a beach?”  
  
“Mathas has a beach! Miles of beach! Two of them!”  
  
“Riverbanks are _not_ beaches! Beaches have sand, not mud! I want _sand_ to lie on!”  
  
The Doctor thinks for a few seconds, then sets the TARDIS to “random sand beach.”


	3. Sand/Sea (Whitmore Bay, Barry Island, Earth, 2010)

Amy and Rory take one step outside, then dash back into the TARDIS to find warm clothing.  
  
“It could have been _far_ worse!” the Doctor protests. “What if we'd landed by the Manure Ocean?”  
  
They glare at him.  
  
“ _And_ it's a proper sand beach, look! Not horrible lumpy pebbles -”  
  
Amy beats him over the head with a jumper until he agrees to stop making excuses and apologise.  
  
  
They go for a walk on the beach anyway, despite the weather and the fact that they are not only in Wales but in fact are _perilously_ close to Cardiff, but it isn't exactly enjoyable.   
  
The sea-spray is freezing (Rory gives Amy his long socks, and after about half an hour she finally gives in and dons them), a flock of seagulls try to use them for target practise (the Doctor drives those off by making a horrible noise with the sonic screwdriver, at which point the Ponds mostly forgive him for dragging them here), and the shops are nearly all closed because it's the off-season.  
  
They eventually find a doughnut shop, and between them dig enough small change out of their pockets for a half-dozen fresh doughnuts (although it does involve sneaking in a few future, past and foreign coins and hoping that the bored cashier won't notice).   
The stodginess and heat boost their flagging spirits more than the ridiculously copious coating of sugar, and they feel as though they might make it back to the TARDIS without dying of hypothermia after all.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, they're debating walking arm-in-arm to help them huddle together for warmth when the Doctor spots something too far ahead to look like anything more than dots to human eyes, and he dashes off waving his arms without a word of explanation. The Ponds roll their eyes and follow at a slightly more sedate pace.  
  
When they catch up to the Doctor, they find him chattering at two young men whose expressions indicate that they've met him before and are all too aware of how long he'll keep talking. They're both listening with every show of politeness, all the same, but the Doctor suddenly waves an admonishing finger at the wide space between the men and chides, “Oi! Cheeky!”  
  
Amy and Rory have both seen the Doctor talk to thin air, inanimate objects and his own body parts before now, but to their astonishment the two men both turn to face the space which is holding the Doctor's attention and give it reproving glares.  
  
“Ah, Ponds!” The Doctor has finally noticed their arrival. “Meet some old friends of mine – well, I say friends, we met once and it mostly consisted of us yelling at each other a lot until they believed that I really _did_ mean no harm. And I _didn't_ mean any harm, did I? Not that I'm blaming you, chaps, you get a lot of hate-crime, and that's on _top_ of all the people coming after Eve -”  
  
The Doctor isn't looking, but Amy and Rory spot the pained looks which flicker over the men's faces at the mention of this name.  
  
“- so you were being _entirely_ sensible, which is rather boring but sometimes it's unfortunately necessary. Oh, Ponds, I should explain: when I was running around looking for baby Melody - before _she_ found _me_ , as it were -”  
  
From the sympathetic looks on the men's faces, Amy and Rory have just made the same pained expressions that Eve's name evoked.  
  
“ - one thing I tried was setting the TARDIS to search for Human-Plus baby girls before the 23rd  century, that's when humans really started to integrate into mainstream  
galactic society. Only it turned out that there were rather a _lot_ of them all the same, and one of the places I ended up was these lovely people's attic. Nicely decorated, if a bit heavy on the crucifixes – they made for lovely mobiles, though. But before I could check the baby, their friend Annie – she's not here, by the way, the lady with them now is someone called Alex whom I've never met before – popped up in front of me and kept me pinned to the wall for about half an hour while these charming gentlemen _interrogated_ me and tried to empty my pockets. I _told_ them they were on a hiding to nothing, and it was going to take an even longer eternity if Hal here kept lining everything up neatly, but they weren't having any of it. Anyway, eventually I managed a bit of telepathy with Annie and she _finally_ believed me, although by that point Eve had woken up and according to _her_ they'd never even heard of Melody. Not surprised you haven't brought Eve here, not great beach weather is it? Ooh, is she crawling yet?”  
  
The poor men seem to be on the verge of tears by this point, but the one in the black jacket keeps his voice commendably steady as he explains, “I'm afraid that Annie and Eve both died, about a month ago.”  
  
The Doctor seems to slump all over, like one of those push-button puppets.  
  
“They saved the world,” the one with the long coat and the scar across his scalp adds in a broad Derby accent, starting to cry now.  
  
The Doctor wordlessly hands over a handkerchief. (It has a question-mark on each corner.)  
  
There is a long, uncomfortable silence.  
  
Eventually Amy breaks it, with a very heartfelt, “I'm sorry for your loss.” Rory echoes her, and the Doctor nods in concurrence.  
  
“Thank you,” says the one in the black jacket, his voice finally cracking slightly. The one with the scar merely nods and wipes his eyes again, unable to speak for the moment.  
  
The Doctor eventually walks past the men and away towards the TARDIS, without another word.  
  
Amy and Rory shuffle awkwardly, and the men stand aside to let them follow the Doctor.  
  
They return to the TARDIS in silence, and the Doctor wanders off into its depths for the rest of the day.  
  
  
( _Exit, pursued by a past_ )

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the Angst Trojan Horse!  
> Also sorry for how awkward this fic is. I've been polishing it for weeks and it never gets any better.
> 
> For non-Coultonites:  
> Jonathan Coulton (JoCo) is an imaginative musician (he writes his own songs, which are weird and brilliant and can be sung in the bath) who's put all his music under a Creative Commons License – like Wikipedia, you can copy and use it as much as you like provided that you credit it to him and don't make a profit from it. And yet sales of his music and merchandise still earn him a LOT of money! His website – where you can listen to his music for free without downloading - is here: http://www.jonathancoulton.com/  
> The JoCo Cruise Crazy is an annual week-long Caribbean cruise, featuring performances by JoCo himself and a lot of his other Internet-music-star friends such as Paul and Storm (who are also his opening and backing band) and The Doubleclicks.  
> The Fancy Pants Parade is an event during the JoCo Cruise Crazy, which involves participants parading across the stage wearing the most spectacular trousers they can find while JoCo performs the live Zendrum version of his song “Mr Fancy Pants” (which is all about trying to win the prize for Fanciest Pants in a Fancy Pants Parade). The judges award a rather nice trophy to whoever they judge to be wearing the fanciest trousers.  
> In our universe, the Fancy Pants Parade on the third JoCo Cruise Crazy was won by someone wearing “pants” - as in trousers, Jonathan Coulton is American – with Dalek blobbles on them. That can't have happened in the Whoniverse because of the cracks in the Universe etc., so the way was clear!  
> I don't think we ever see what becomes of the remains of the blown-up Dalek at the start of “The Parting Of The Ways”, so I've had the TARDIS recycle it into clothes.
> 
> For those of you who have never heard of the lamviin (i.e. nearly everybody):  
> Sodde Lydfe is the planet of the lamviin in “Their Majesties' Bucketeers” by L Neil Smith (not to be confused with the founder of a certain American cult). The book is essentially an alien ACD!Holmes AU. By “alien”, I don't mean “different ears”. They are VERY alien in appearance (although suspiciously Victorian-esque in society and behaviour – the book isn't taking itself seriously), as pictured on the recent reprint edition: http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=PvtBnwEACAAJ&dq=%22their+majesties'+bucketeers%22&hl=en&sa=X&ei=XwwvU_viJ7Po7Aby34CwBg&ved=0CCQQ6AEwAQ, but all you really need to know for this fic is that they've evolved in a hyperdessicated desert and water is instinctively disgusting to them – hence why their food is either dried or simmered in oil, and they're not at all keen on going into the water because it softens their exoskeletons (although they can be immersed for short periods of time without ill-effects, otherwise they'd never have invented sailing). I imagine there'd be a lot of morbid curiosity among them over other species' swimming.  
> Also, they have trinary gender – male, female and surmale. The hotel owner has mistaken Amy, Rory and the Doctor for a married – or at least cohabiting - “trine”.  
> The atmosphere of Sodde Lydfe is confirmed in another (far less good) book by the same author to be completely unbreathable to humans, so I made up the atmosphere converters in this fic.  
> The foods are ones mentioned in the book – the “imam bayildi” is cactus pears simmered in oil, and the “crisps” are slices of pickled “taproot”. (Imam bayildi is stuffed aubergine simmered in oil. The name translates as “the imam fainted”, though nobody can agree on the origins of the name.)
> 
> For non-Humaniacs:  
> Barry Island, just outside Cardiff, is the home of the main characters in “Being Human” from Series Three onwards.  
> The mysterious woman Alex (standing between the men) was invisible and inaudible to the Ponds because she's a ghost by this point in the “Being Human” timeline (ghosts in “Being Human” are invisible, inaudible and intangible to normal humans – the Doctor has a tendency to be able to see and hear what his human friends can't, likely because of his vague telepathy, hence why he can see and hear Alex in this fic). The man in the black jacket is Hal Yorke (vampire), while the one with the long coat and scar is Tom McNair (werewolf).  
> Baby Eve was the daughter of the earlier “Being Human” characters George and Nina, although both were dead within a month of Eve's birth so Eve was raised by their friend Annie (ghost) and her new housemates Hal and Tom. Although both her parents were werewolves, Eve turned out to be more-or-less a normal human – although she could perceive ghosts, hence why I've listed her as Human-Plus (the description used for Melody Pond in “A Good Man Goes To War”).


End file.
